


The Resort Tithe

by chloefantasista (chthonicfantasyyy)



Series: Luxury Amenities [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Dildos, First Time Bottoming, Lingerie, M/M, Ritual Sex, sex toy transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chthonicfantasyyy/pseuds/chloefantasista
Summary: “That food was spiked, wasn’t it? With an aphrodisiac.”The mayor smiles, gently like someone in town just asked him about the weather. “Yes.”“Part of the ritual?”“It can be.”
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Luxury Amenities [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893898
Kudos: 27





	The Resort Tithe

Jeremy stands on a small beach. 

Save for the white sand getting stuck between his toes and the shells digging into his heels, there’s nothing else there, as if it was designed to be nothing more than the perfect spot to just sit and watch the vast ocean.

But Jeremy wasn’t doing that at all.

The salty green water and chilling foam laps at his ankles as he faces the opposite direction, staring up instead at a sheer, green, foliage-soaked cliff.

If he closes his eyes and drowns out the overpowering sound of the ocean, he can hear the delicate bubbling of the mayor’s hot springs above. If he squints and holds his hand up to block out the sun’s glare, he can faintly see the unlit streetlamps, and the curve of the path leading to the mayor’s--

His thoughts are interrupted by the rustle of leaves, and he turns to his left.

The foliage shifts in time with bare feet slapping against rock, and a moment later the mayor’s golden head pops into a view, eyes wide like--

“I didn’t expect you to show up so early!” the mayor says, stepping out onto the beach with arms spread wide, the sunlight glinting off his golden nose ring.

Jeremy blinks.

Despite having been in a relationship with the mayor for...at least a few months at this point, Jeremy was always...surprised by him, by the mayor continuing to reach out to him, as if he was expecting the mayor to just...get bored of someone as plain as he is.

And as if he’s hearing his thoughts, the mayor stops short, his smile and arms falling a little as he looks Jeremy over.

“Jeremy, sweetie, you’re filthy,” he says, his tone a bit dejected.

Jeremy glances down at himself, at the dirt and grass blood on his sweater and jeans and the scuffs on the toes of his sneakers.

“You...asked me to come meet you on a beach that isn’t marked on a map.”

“Yes, but, sweetie, there’s a path,” the mayor says, pointing off to some low-hanging greenery to the right. “You know I always make a path.”

Jeremy always thought he was good at guarding his emotions when being scolded, but apparently that’s not the case. The mayor tuts and opens his arms again.

“No worries. I’m drenched in seawater anyways, come close and let’s see if I can help clean some of that off.”

The mayor bites his tongue and wiggles his hips as he beckons Jeremy closer. Even if he’s seen it so many times before, the sight of someone who’s normally so dignified acting so goofy never fails to make him laugh.

And the mayor is indeed  _ soaked through _ with seawater-- so much so that when Jeremy pulls away he’s damp-- like he had just been submerged himself. 

Jeremy had only really noticed that the mayor was wearing tights and a hoodie-- a remarkably simple look for him-- but he hadn’t noticed that either of them were made of lycra and nylon until he went to cop a feel.

The mayor laughs aloud.

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your edge,” he purrs, crouching slightly so his lips are next to Jeremy’s ear. “Hope you can keep it up.”

That said, the mayor scoops up Jeremy into his arms, a task that is embarrassingly easy given how puberty completely forgot to stop at Jeremy’s doorstep back in high school.

The mayor happily carries him down the path he came out from, and while it’s not a particularly long journey, the path has its own twists and turns and it didn’t take very long for Jeremy to feel bad for the inconvenience and start squirming in his hold.

“Calm down, calm down,” the mayor says, stroking his back. “We’re almost there.”

A few moments later, the mayor sets Jeremy down with a little grunt, and Jeremy winces as his feet come into contact with the cold, slick stone.

As he looks around, he realizes that this might be the closest he’s ever come to entering the mayor’s place, so to speak.

Obviously that was a bit of an exaggeration-- the mayor had a lovely little house in town and the only reason Jeremy hadn’t gone by now was because he was usually busy working-- but looking around, it was clear that this was a place where the mayor spent quite a bit of time.

The mayor had brought him to a black rock cliff that jutted out into the water like the blade of a knife before wrapping around and hugging the shoreline, becoming a path that trails off elsewhere.

At first, Jeremy isn’t even sure where to step. The cliff wasn’t messy like his bedroom, covered with trash that he’d pick up when he got to it, but it was almost completely hidden beneath several  _ very sharp _ golden weapons, all of them polished to perfection and glowing in the sunlight, as if the spirits had only dropped them there this morning.

Well, the mayor quickly rectifies this, awkwardly apologizing as he gathers up the weapons and makes them disappear into thin air.

Now that they’re mostly all gone, Jeremy can see beyond that -- close to the edge of the cliff is a long banquet style table made of lustrous, textured seashells, and at either end are two rattan armchairs with soft blue cushions. Looming over one of the chairs is a bright pink, grinning jellyfish parasol, complete with blue and purple sequined tentacles that trail on top of the surface of the ocean.

It was so...adorably kitschy that Jeremy could tell that was the mayor’s favorite spot, even before he sits down and gestures for Jeremy to do the same.

Following such an instruction comes with a bit of trepidation, and Jeremy glances at the mayor before taking the other seat.

On the bright side, there’s food. Right by Jeremy’s hand is a glass and a pitcher of water so he can refill it at his pleasure, and in front of him is one of those foil packet meals, still wrapped to keep the heat.

On the other hand, Jeremy isn’t so sure he’s hungry given the table’s...interesting centerpiece, but he still pours himself some water and has a polite sip.

“This is a very interesting...set up for a last date.”

The mayor pouts as he fills his own glass. “Don’t call it a  _ last _ date. You plan on visiting me, don’t you?”

Of course Jeremy did. It would be difficult, but he could swing it. 

He finally decided that he wanted to branch out of this town and get more experience doing reception work, but, of course, he wanted to respect his parent’s wishes, so he decided to get a job outside of the hotel field, working as a receptionist in a dentist instead and seeing what knowledge he could then bring back home.

This was, of course, a huge goddamn lie. A few months ago he didn’t think he’d be leaving town, much less leaving town to work at another goddamn hotel, but this hotel happened to pique his now...evolved interests.

He hadn’t even told the mayor the specifics of it yet, but for now it didn’t matter. He would be working there four days a week, then he could head back home and work for two more days, then “relax” with the mayor on the last before heading back.

A tight schedule, but Jeremy didn’t plan on compromising for any part of it, except maybe the part where his parents took advantage of his labor. That he could do without.

“If we’re talking semantics, then you probably shouldn’t call it a date then.” The mayor pauses at that. “I know you didn’t invite me to your secret beach hideaway for fun, especially not with  _ that _ sitting on the table.”

The mayor pouts again. 

“I think he’s beautiful.”

Jeremy sighs. Knowing the mayor that might be completely true, but Jeremy could not write this off as a fun little quirk. Not when he was struggling to hold back his bile with every sip he took.

There was a big tank on the table and inside of that tank is what could generously be described as a crab. Well, it certainly is a crab, just ugly as fuck, crusted with barnacles and algae and slimy brown gunk. Jeremy wasn’t particularly squeamish around bugs, but part of that came from the fact that bugs were small and a lot of the grosser details were out of sight and out of mind.

There were just some parts of a crab’s anatomy that didn’t need to be blown up 300%, but the fact that this crab clearly wasn’t a normal crab also made things worse than they needed to be.

Too many eyes that were too...aware, flicking back and forth between Jeremy and the mayor as they spoke, as if it was listening. The crab appeared to have two and a half chelae -- two on one side, and two more on the other side that had never fully split, resulting a gross blobby net of keratin on two spindly stumps -- that it waved and clicked with all the slow consideration of an inmate testing their limits and trying to plan the best time for an escape.

From where Jeremy was sitting, he could (unfortunately) see that the crab’s back was split, and what was squirming and pulsing underneath was--

“Can I just push this into the ocean? Because I don’t think either of us should be witnessing this.”

“No, he’s important,” the mayor says, gently patting the top of the tank. “I need your help with a certain ritual.”

Ritual? Jeremy blinks.

“W-wait. Are the rumors about you being, like-- ” Jeremy gestures vaguely. “--a gift from the spirits actually true?”

The mayor shrugs. “Of course they are.”

Jeremy takes a long sip of water.

People always said that the mayor was touched by the spirits of the sea, the gods, the fae-- but Jeremy figured it was metaphorical, a reference to him being good at his job despite his age, not that it was a literal descriptor of his origins. 

...Though it did provide a convenient explanation for the hair, the eye...the stamina.

If he’d known that the mayor was literally blessed, he would’ve fucked him less...or more depending on what the spirits are into.

“What’s the ritual?”

“It’s rather straightforward,” the mayor says with a smile as he starts to open his foil packet. “I think once we begin you’ll understand your role.”

Jeremy raises an eyebrow. 

“Is this just roleplay? Are we roleplaying right now? Because either you’re trying to prove the existence of a ritual that hasn’t existed until now, or this is one long set up for some roleplay.”

The mayor smiles slightly.

“Normally, I’d take care of this myself, but I figured, since we’re together, that you’d be willing to help me.”

Well, now he feels bad. Jeremy sighs and follows the mayor’s lead, carefully unfolding his own foil packet. He was expecting more of a meal, to be hit with a burst of warm air and the scent of fresh salmon or grilled pork-- but instead there’s nothing.

That’s not entirely true. There is something there, but it is basically nothing. A chalky, white, mushy substance that was definitely still warm but emitted no discernable smell.

“I understand that it looks a bit...plain, but it is tradition.”

Jeremy pops his eyebrows. “Well, as long as you understand.”

He pinches off a bit of it with his fingers, marvels at how surprisingly dense it is, then finally has a taste.

A moment later, he’s fanning his mouth and chugging the rest of his water. It was hot, very hot, and while Jeremy didn’t feel any particular way about spicy food, this in particular was nearly intolerable. It lingered on his tongue, then spread up into the roof of his mouth and back down to his gut until it spread throughout his whole body and stayed there, growing with every bite, a sensation that was made even more unbearable by the fact that it was 90 degrees out and he was sitting in the sun.

“Are you alright?” the mayor asks. If he’s bothered by the spice, he doesn’t show it at all, though it kind of makes sense -- if the mayor’s been doing the ritual by himself all this time, then of course he’d be used to it.

Jeremy waves him off, managing to get out the word “hot” in between his coughs.

“Yes, I understand it might be a bit difficult to bear, but please try and eat as much as you can.”

The mayor gives him a patient smile, and Jeremy rolls his eyes. As if he’s going to back out now of all times. 

“I’ll be fine,” Jeremy says, once he’s regained what little composure he can. “It’s just food.”

Unfortunately, he manages to finish all of it. But even after Jeremy’s polished off his water and the mayor’s, that heat still lingers. He hisses out his breath through his teeth and clenches his fists as he stares down the crab in its tank, wondering what exactly would happen if he smashed the glass and slurped up the remaining water.

“It seems we’re both ready,” the mayor says, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “Shall we move on?”

Jeremy nods weakly and slowly gets to his feet. The mayor smiles and picks up the aquarium with ease, leading Jeremy down and around the rocky path and into a small grotto.

There’s not much to look at. Well, there’s plenty, but at the moment, Jeremy can’t fucking bother with that descriptive bullshit right now.

That heat is, that heat is…

Jeremy finally understands that heat now. In the same way that it spread throughout his whole body, it finally began to recede, drawing back slowly until it was completely localized to--

Jeremy waits until the mayor has safely set the crab on a pedestal in the center of the grotto before he confronts him.

“That food was spiked, wasn’t it? With an aphrodisiac.”

The mayor smiles, gently like someone in town just asked him about the weather. “Yes.”

“Part of the ritual?”

“It can be.”

Jeremy takes a breath and tries very hard to ignore his growing erection and his sudden, very intense desire to hump every solid object in the room.

“What exactly...is this ritual?”

“You’re not really in a position to hear the answer,” the mayor says, crossing the room and kneeling at Jeremy’s feet in one smooth motion. 

He works quickly, undoing Jeremy’s fly and wrapping his lips around Jeremy’s stiff cock.

The aphrodisiac didn’t just make him horny, but made every sensation feel like so much more. If the mayor even breathed on the tip of his cock, Jeremy would probably cum, and now he was balls deep in his mouth, practically sobbing at every flick of his tongue and twitch of the muscles in his throat.

It takes almost nothing for him to cum, and normally Jeremy would feel more embarrassed by that, but he knew it would take more than one orgasm to get rid of the effects of the aphrodisiac.

Still, cumming once is enough to make the more severe effects subside, and Jeremy regains some clarity as the mayor stands and wipes his mouth.

The grotto they’re in is rather small, made smaller by all the weapons hanging on the walls, and lit up by a natural aperture in the ceiling. At the far end of the grotto -- far being like 1.5 or maybe 2 meters -- is a blank wall, and against that wall is a simple stone pedestal with the crab tank on it.

On the left side of the pedestal is a low stone table with a clay pitcher on it, as well as some wooden instruments that Jeremy has never seen before, and on the right side of the pedestal is a mannequin wearing a white body harness and a white hooded cloak with gold trim.

“Is this modest enough to be considered religious garb?” Jeremy asks, running the fabric through his fingers.

The mayor plucks at the back of his sweater.

“That’s your call to make.”

Jeremy glances back at him. “Isn’t this yours?”

“Normally, I’d be wearing it, yes, but now you’re here.”

“The spirits like it when we wear fetish gear?”

“Very much.”

Jeremy gives the mayor a sharp glare and gets an impish grin in return.

Whatever. His clothes had been a nuisance ever since the aphrodisiac started to take effect -- Jeremy couldn’t stand the way they felt against his body, constantly present, yet teasing him, resting on his skin in a way that wasn’t nearly substantial enough to get him off.

He was actually thankful to be wearing the skimpy body harness, and he could hold the cloak shut to stave off the mayor’s hungry gaze.

The mayor laughs. “Very well. It won’t matter soon enough. Now pay attention, we have to time this just right.”

“I won’t have to do anything embarrassing, will I?” Jeremy asks, joining the mayor in front of the crab tank.

Jeremy notices a flash of hunger in the mayor’s glance before he turns his attention to the crab.

“Nothing you’re not aware of.”

The mayor claps his hands and bows to the crab and Jeremy follows suit.

“Where did you even find this thing?” he whispers.

“Do you remember the storm we had last week?”

He did. 

It was the worst one they’d had this year, with flooding in the lower districts, some roof cave-ins, and a small strip of houses in the east side of town was completely flattened. Thank goodness there were only a few injuries.

“It washed up in the storm?” Jeremy asks.

“Oh, no. It brought the storm with it.”

“This little thing?!”

“Obviously it was much bigger,” the mayor says, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “You’re welcome by the way.”

It takes Jeremy a moment to catch his meaning, but in all honesty, it didn’t seem too far fetched. It wasn’t hard to imagine the mayor battling a giant crab in the middle of a raging storm, gleaming weapons in hand. He could do almost everything else, so why not that too?

The mayor shuts one eye, the brown one, and raises one hand over the crab tank.

The crab throws itself against its confines as it starts to glow a dazzling red, chittering and screeching as it tries in vain to escape. As the light grows brighter, Jeremy shuts his eyes and turns his head away, pulling the cloak’s hood up to block out the blinding light as best as he can.

The light fades just as quickly, and when Jeremy turns back to the pedestal--

His impulse to be snarky is overridden by his own arousal, aided in part by the aphrodisiacs but, if he’s being honest with himself, not by much.

Jeremy had taken a tour of the mayor’s extensive sex toy collection several times, but all of them were mere trifles compared to this thing. It was big, only a few inches longer than the mayor’s but absolutely thicker, a bright orangey-red studded with alternating soft nubs and stiffer pointed bumps.

Underneath the cloak, framed perfectly by the straps of the harness, Jeremy’s cock jumps, and it takes all of his self control to keep himself from mounting the pedestal then and there.

The mayor smiles down at him, and Jeremy realizes that something about him looks...different.

“Your eye…”

The mayor blinks and tips his head to the side, as if he didn’t notice that his eye was open like an aperture, revealing a tiny, pale-blue light in the center.

“Oh, yes,” the mayor finally says. “That’s for recording.”

“Recording.”

“Well, certainly not digital recording. Let’s just say that this eye is the spirits’ eye.”

He smiles, proud. Jeremy rubs his temples.

“So you’re telling me that deep in our little town’s lore is a ritual where the participants take an aphrodisiac, wear a body harness you got with two-day shipping online, turn some unfathomable horror of the depths into a dildo-- which...okay-- and then record their use of the dildo so the gods can watch? Is that right?”

The mayor groans.

“Obviously bits and pieces are legitimate, but since there are less...blessed people running around, things have changed. Ugh,” the mayor grabs Jeremy’s shoulders and shakes him like a ragdoll. “I’m trying to have fun and invite you to do this fun thing with me before you have to leave town, just relax and have fun, please?”

Jeremy sighs and grabs onto one of the mayor’s wrists. He worries his bottom lip for a bit before he finally glances up and asks the one question lingering on his mind.

“Is it...you know....still alive?”

The mayor grins. “Absolutely not. It’s soul has been obliterated from the cycle of existence.”

“That’s...a mood killer.”

“Really? How about…” The mayor leans down so his lips are brushing against the shell of Jeremy’s ear. “ _ I’m going to fuck you so hard the spirits won’t need this eye to hear the sweet sounds you make _ .”

Jeremy shudders as the heat creeps up again. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Good boy. I’ll even let you hold it.”

The mayor shoves the dildo into his arms and Jeremy is temporarily immobilized, marvelling at the myriad ways all those little bumps and rounded spikes press against the skin of his chest and arms, salivating as he imagines all the ways they’ll press up against the walls of his hole.

As Jeremy’s mind goes blank with the imagined pleasure, the mayor grabs the pitcher from the table next to the pedestal, then slides between the two pieces of furniture, one hand pushing against that wall.

Jeremy is jolted by his thoughts by the loud slam of the wall, a false wall, crashing against the floor and revealing the rest of the grotto. There’s probably plenty of stuff for Jeremy to look at, but his attention is wholly focused on the bed-- a canopy with gauzy white sailor-themed sheets and plush seashell pillows.

He’d be lying in complete comfort as the mayor finally split his ass open for the first time.

“Go on,” the mayor murmurs in his ear as he gently pushes Jeremy forward. “Show me what I’m working with.”

Jeremy moves forward with trembling steps until his shins are up against the mattress.

He throws the dildo onto the bed and fumbles with the clasp on his cloak for what seems like ages before it finally falls, pooling on the floor at his feet. Finally free, Jeremy scrambles onto the bed, hugging the dildo to his chest as he rolls onto his side and looks up at the mayor with desperate eyes.

There wasn’t much more he could do to show how much he wanted this. He had never been so hard in his life, and the fact that he had to wait to cum was almost painful. He was so, so close to just humping one of the pillows and quickly getting off, but he knew that couldn’t compare to waiting for a much greater reward…

“Look at you,” the mayor purrs. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already making a mess.”

Jeremy rolls over slightly, partly out of embarrassment, pressing his cock into the wet patch his precum made on the sheets, but another part out of desperation, hoping that maybe showing the mayor some of his ass will encourage him to get a move on.

Thankfully, he takes the hint and crawls onto the bed, looming over Jeremy like a panther over its prey as he sets the pitcher on the bedside table.

“Oh, look at you,” he says, rolling Jeremy onto his back again and lightly tapping the head of his cock, drawing out a whimper. “You’re dying for it, aren’t you?”

“Please…”

The mayor hums like he’s only considering the idea as he runs his hands over Jeremy’s body, over the crisp white bands of the harness running over his black skin. Jeremy squirms at the touch, moaning with every press of the mayor’s fingers against his skin, arching his back for more more  _ more _ \--

“Roll over, sweetie.”

_ Finally. _

Jeremy rolls over as fast as his body can allow him, propping himself up on his hands and knees and presenting his ass like he was born to do it.

The mayor laughs aloud as he strips out of his swim tights, revealing another white harness, this one with a special ring that could only fit a dildo as large as the one he had made.

Jeremy whimpers as the mayor takes it from him, and slots it into place with a sharp click that’s almost sensual in its coldness.

“Patience, patience,” the mayor says as he reaches over him again to grab the pitcher, grazing Jeremy’s back with the tip of the dildo.

Jeremy yelps as something cold and wet spills down his back and between his ass cheeks.

“Just a little longer,” the mayor says, dipping his fingers in the lubricant and pressing them against Jeremy’s needy, waiting hole. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you, Jeremy.”

Jeremy wants nothing more than to be hurt but he wasn’t the one in charge right now. Fuck, the mayor was the one who gave him the aphrodisiac to begin with, he had to know what it was doing to him, how much he needed anything and everything all at once--

Jeremy’s thoughts still as the mayor wraps one lube-slicked hand around his cock.

“ _ Yes _ ,” he moans, too far gone to worry about how desperate he looks.

The mayor laughs as he gives Jeremy a helping hand, pumping his dick with long firm strokes while his fingers push deeper and deeper inside of Jeremy, grazing against--

Jeremy cries out, clenching tightly around the mayor’s finger and forcing it up against his prostate, intensifying his pleasure all the more.

“There you go,” the mayor coos, finishing Jeremy with one last long tug and watching with a wide smile as he stains the sheets with his cum. “I think you’re just about ready.”

“Please,  _ please, _ ” Jeremy says, squirming as he grips the sheets tightly between his fists.

“Yes, yes,” the mayor says, withdrawing his fingers and wiping the excess lube off on his hoodie. “I agree, you’ve waited long enough.”

Finally,  _ fucking finally _ . The mayor takes the hand he was using to jack Jeremy off and uses it to grip his hip instead so he can line himself up, and uses the other to push Jeremy’s face into the mattress, sending little shivers down Jeremy’s spine.

The mayor pops the head of the dildo in with a grunt, and Jeremy moans at the blessed way it stretches the rim of his hole, its smoothness teasing his insides. For a moment, that unbearable heat from the aphrodisiac abates, but only for a moment before it comes back with full force.

“More,” Jeremy whines, his voice pitching higher even as it’s muffled by the mattress.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” the mayor says, slamming forward until his hips meet Jeremy’s.

Jeremy is so stunned that any noise he would’ve made dies in his throat. It was his first time bottoming, so he figured the mayor would’ve taken it slow. Very slow. But in truth, this treatment was exactly what he needed -- with the way the aphrodisiac was making his insides boil, anything short of the mayor ramming it all the way up to the hilt would be useless.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Jeremy wasn’t shocked.

It was one thing to see the shape of the dildo, to feel its contours and all the little bumps and ridges, but it was another thing entirely to feel it inside of him, the uneven pressure of its surface as it went deeper into Jeremy than anything ever had before.

It’s a while before Jeremy returns to himself. Each and every little bump that runs over his prostate makes him see stars, and when he finally gains some lucidity, it’s in the moment right before the mayor slams into him again, starting the cycle all over again.

“You’re getting used to this,” the mayor says, voice smooth and unruffled over the litany of Jeremy’s whimpers and groans. “Does it feel good?”

Jeremy’s face is still pressed into the mattress, but he still manages to jerk his head in a facsimile of a nod. The mayor smiles down at him gently, and brushes the tears from his cheek with a swipe of his thumb.

“Alright, then. Let’s kick it up a notch.”

And he does.

Jeremy thought this fucking was intense before -- slow and deliberate so that he could feel every single inch of it -- but now the mayor had taken the kid gloves off, fucking him fast and hard -- every bump slides through him once and then immediately right back over all the new sensitive spots they’ve found.

The mayor was moving and the pleasure was flowing faster than Jeremy could process, though the addition of the aphrodisiac made his processing speed very low to begin with.

Everything slowly melts around him until he’s only aware of two things -- the dildo, pistoning in and out of his ass, and himself, cumming hard.

And cumming, cumming, cumming...every time he did, the aphrodisiac made him want more and then the mayor would oblige, pulling another orgasm out of him, and then the aphrodisiac would make him want more--

Fuck seeing stars, Jeremy was seeing  _ galaxies _ .

***

“Nooo, you have to keep it in,” Jeremy says a long while later, looking down at the dildo stuck partway up his ass.

The aphrodisiac had worn off just a few moments ago, and Jeremy had never felt so tired in his life. Even working at his parent’s inn didn’t take this much out of him. His bones felt like lead and he was coated with sweat, sweat that was slowly but surely soaking through the sheets.

The mayor chuckles softly as he moves his hips, continuing to fuck Jeremy with shallow, barely-there thrusts but mostly trying to slowly pull out. His eye has done its job and is now back to its usual closed state, but despite that he looks completely unruffled, like he just went for a run in the park.

Jeremy couldn’t help but be a little jealous. He didn’t look nearly so composed when  _ he  _ was done topping.

“Seriously,” Jeremy says, locking his ankles around the mayor’s waist. “I think I’m gonna die if you pull out.”

The mayor’s chuckle grows into a full blown guffaw as he bends down and kisses Jeremy’s forehead.

“Sweetie, you’re leaving town tomorrow. And you can’t bottom again if we don’t take this out now.”

“Nooooo,” Jeremy whines and it turns into a keen as the mayor pulls out a little bit more, dragging another set of bumps over his oversensitive prostate.

“Come on now. I can’t give you your goodbye present if we’re stuck like this, now can I?”

Despite the fact that they just got done fucking, Jeremy still feels his ears heating up at the thought. This...was his first real relationship after all, and this would be his first time receiving a gift from a loved one that wasn’t a family member.

The mayor takes the time when he’s distracted to pull out fully, and Jeremy lets out a little noise as he’s left disappointingly empty.

“Calm down, darling,” the mayor says, as he removes his dildo harness with deft fingers. “When you come home, I’ll fuck you all you want.”

Jeremy shudders in anticipation. The bed dips as the mayor settles in next to him, pressing another kiss to his temple.

“Look.”

The mayor holds up something, and in the fading light of the grotto, Jeremy just barely recognizes it as the twin to the gold nose ring the mayor himself is wearing.

It might make him a sap but...Jeremy loves it and before he knows it he’s sitting up in bed-- despite the fact that his ass hurts so much that he’ll be leaving town in a wheelchair-- leaning forward so that he can look at it more closely.

The mayor laughs at his eagerness. 

“I didn’t think you’d like it so much.”

“I love it,” Jeremy breathes, reaching out to touch it. 

“I’m glad, but it’s not like you can just  _ have _ it, sweetie.”

It takes Jeremy a moment to take his meaning, but it clicks when he sees the mayor’s glinting septum ring and touches his own nose in thought.

“Oh, right. Maybe I should make an appointment for when I come back.”

“Or I could just do it for you.”

“Really?”

The mayor nods and flips the ring between his fingers. On one hand, Jeremy wanted it, wanted to grab this chance to get closer to the person he loved, but--

“We just finished fucking and I’m super late for dinner with my parents, and now you want to pierce my face too?”

The mayor shrugs. “If you’d like.”

“I..” Well, he doesn’t  _ not _ want it. “L-Let me take a nap first?”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me @chloefantasista on Twitter to get access to my stuff early.


End file.
